On pain of Death
by DestinyOfAshes
Summary: Divided by post war desolation, our heroes struggle against powerful and unseen enemies in a galaxy riddled with corruption. A long awaited followed up to the wildly successful (HAHAHA!) "Ashes of Redemption". Occurs 10 years after KOTOR2. Note; this is proudly AU. Couplings: chiefly Bastila/LSM Revan but with a healthy amount of Atton/Meetra.
1. Prologue

" **On Pain of Death"**

 _A sequel to "Ashes of Redemption", by DestinyOfAshes._

 **Prologue.**

Three year old Revan triumphantly held up a colourful Dontooinian cane toad to his younger friend,

"Bastila! Bastila! Look what I found!"

She bounded happily across the meadow to inspect Revan's prisoner. Utterly unimpressed by the whole experience, the toad freed itself a few moments later as Revan held it out for Bastila to see. With it's neck frill fully extended and emitting a menacing hiss, the normally fearless young toddler was suddenly reluctant to attempt a recapture.

Young Bastila laughed at Revan's reluctance, despite himself he started to laugh too.

 _...so innocent._

The Jedi Enclave of Dantooine stood protectively over the two. A few moments later a Jedi appeared around the corner of the building, a look of concern quickly replaced by relief as he laid eyes on the children,

"There you are! How did you get away?" He scooped the still laughing toddlers up and carried them back toward the Enclave.

 _How did they get away? Where did they go?_

The Enclave melted as soon as the three stepped out of sight, consumed by darkness. The smell of fresh grass, the high pitched and cheery background chirping of the Dantooinian floraxes abruptly disappeared as well. The humming was back. It's monotonous, low pitched and malevolent throbbing reminded him he had not actually stood in that field in many years.

 _It stands in ruin now… burned in Malak's attack…_

 **Yet another victim. I wonder... how many is that?**

 _Shut up. I can't be responsible for every death. Did I order the attack? Did I control Malak at that point?_

 **Would Malak have ever ordered that attack if not for you? It was you who sought the star forge, you who drove Malak down the path to becoming the Sith Lord. How can you consider yourself not to answer for what happened? Are you trying to deny responsibility? Tell me, for someone once known as 'Revan the butcher', is that not a little bit... pathetic?**

 _I was redeemed for what I did!_

 **Redeemed?! Of all the lies! How were you redeemed?! Is the galaxy not in a worse state now for your having been part of it? Had you never lived it could not possibly be in a more desolate state!**

The darkness resolved and suddenly there was Coruscant. The ghastly stench hit him first, he choked on it's toxic oder. All around the poverty was abundant. Even the bottom level of Taris had never been this bad. The slums were poorer than ever, relief funding had been cut during the Jedi Civil War and never reinstated. Always "more important" priorities had been chosen by the Senate. It was a Senate that didn't want to know, much less care.

Guards had been posted to 'maintain order', in fact they were there to keep the poor in the poor areas so the rich could happily ignore them. Many of the guards themselves had even taken pity, contributing what money or food they had or could gather. Some had even given all they had.

Above stood the towers. They were high, totally uncaring and happily ignorant.

What wretched beings there were hardly moved from day to day, what was the point?

 **Observe your redemption.**

 _Now who is lying?_

 **You know this is _your_ memory. You saw this with _your own eyes_. This is why you left the known galaxy… when you fled like a coward. You knew then, as you know now...**

Coruscant melted away, replaced by the smoking ruins of some nameless world. In fact there were so many, where to start with trying to decide which one?

Nothing and no one moved. The scene was a picture of death.

 **I give you: your redemption.**

 _I hate you._

 **That was how it started, wasn't it? The killing. _This_ is how it ends. Everywhere you walk… your redemption is nothing but _Ashes in your wake_.**

 _Shut up!_

 **These are the _ashes_ of your _redemption!_**

 _Leave me alone! ...please._

 **Even if I did the truth never will... you can end this now, listen to the voice of reason… come with us.**

 _...enough._

 **You know what this means.**

 _I'll do it. Just stop it. Stop it now!_

Once again the darkness rose to consume everything. This time is was different. This time it melted into grey. Soon there were lights, then noise.

The voice, when it came, was different... it was... real.

"Welcome back to the galaxy... **Darth Revan**."

* * *

 _From the Author:_

 **Please, if you have enjoyed this even slightly, do leave a review with your assessment and thoughts... for that you will have my sincere gratitude. Kindest regards, DestinyOfAshes.**

* * *

About my preceding fanfiction - if you intend to read it click away now:

 _(I'll be the first to admit that it's far from the greatest piece of fiction ever written, however the below forms background and relevant information to this story)._

\- Bastila sets out across the galaxy, encounters various challenges including circumstances which force her to destroy a demented HK47.

\- She makes friends, loses them and is secretly pursued by a shady assassin named Motten.

\- She winds up locating a washed out Revan in a scummy, backwater colony.

\- Our heroes are captured by their in-story nemesis: the dastardly Admiral Kulhoun of the corrupt Republic military, employer of the assassin Motten.

\- The revelation: Bastila has previously operated as an agent for the now corrupt Republican government (which has suffered without the guidance of the Jedi council).

\- Several of the protagonists from the second KOTOR game (who are now part of a group calling themselves 'the resistance') arrive and cause sufficient disruption to allow our heroes to escape.

\- Ultimately Bastila and Revan are forced into a showdown with Kulhoun, who it's revealed is in fact a cyborg and Motten.

\- Bastila kills Motten, is injured and manages to escape while Revan kills Kulhoun, defeats the rest of the enemies but is captured.

\- Later, the true enemy and overarching puppet master reveals himself as Grand Admiral Marcos Sparren as he confronts Admiral Carth Onasi to offer a bargain: the life of Carth's captured son Dustil in exchange for Bastila's death.

\- Forced to make an impossible choice, Carth attempts to rig the system by convincing Visas to sever Bastila's connection to the Force in order to fake her death.

\- The story ends on an uneasy note.

* * *

 _A note re ownership rights:_ _Clearly I do not own any rights to any of the Star Wars characters or properties, nor do I claim any. The is a fan-fiction meaning that I have created it on a not for profit basis purely because I enjoy the story. Therefore I can only request humbly that you please respect the work I have put into this - please do not copy it, ban it, distribute it, steal it, make money from it or otherwise do anything outside of the spirit in which it has been created: for your hopeful enjoyment. Yours sincerely, DestinyOfAshes._


	2. Chapter 1

"On Pain of Death"

 _A sequel to "Ashes of Redemption", by DestinyOfAshes._

 **Chapter 1.**

Darkness unlike anything seen in Millennia, filled the skies above Coruscant's southern sector. A low and ominous rumbling crescendoed in a series of violent, deafening cracks. Blinding forks of lightning flashed and stabbed down through the darkness at random. Children cried and ran, seeking shelter from their parents. Those in the slums who could make it to whatever shelter they could find, huddled together. At least the thin, shivering bodies of complete strangers provided a small amount of warmth.

The malfunctioning weather control system…

 _...hmm that sounds a bit obvious. How does a planet weather management system that has been in place for hundreds of years suddenly malfunction?_

...the attack by The Resistance had a devastating effect. A maelstrom of icy hail fell like bullets and smashed through roofs. The unlucky drowned, the exposed froze to death. Those who weren't strong enough, either in body or will, fell. Desperate screams and cries from their friends and loved ones added to the despair. Inevitably the crack of thunderbolts and the roar of rain and hail overwhelmed their cries.

The sound was soothing from the 501st floor, the top floor, of the Supreme Chancellor's southern sector apartments. Like a cool, reassuring beat. It played a background melody to his favourite tune from the Xion V Jazz-masters.

He opened his eyes and looked out at the cityscape as it stretched out before him. His City. Far below he saw the fast moving streams of hover-cars, criss-crossing through the night. Below that, the heavy thunderclouds that smothered everything under the 200th floor. Below those sat the slums of Coruscant. Despite the distance he could feel the filth emanating from the wretched souls of the poor.

 _Souls? Do the poor have souls?_ He doubted it. How could they? _They are nothing, less than nothing._

 _If only the rain would cleanse the planet, clean away the parasite._ In fact it would do that to a certain extent, he knew. The vermin's numbers would be far fewer before the end of the night. Exactly why he had ordered the powerful rain storm.

 _...and blame it on an attack by The Resistance… yes, then I will call a vote for even more resources to hunt them out. Brilliant._

His decision to create the thunderstorm had been somewhat impromptu. Most of the time he was quite pragmatic, even of inconsequential matters. On this occasion he'd seen a report on the increasing size of the slums and decided a little 'trimming of the numbers' was in order. He'd forgotten to think of a convenient excuse for the rain storm.

 _Idiot_ , he scolded himself. Not that it mattered. The people of the Republic would believe whatever he had them told - they had no other information to go on. Besides, now he had been able to think of a brilliant excuse… reason.

"Chancellor…" a servant ventured from behind him, breaking his concentration. This angered the chancellor.

"What?!"

He may as well have shot the poor man.

"Uh.. uh.. Uh.."

"Spit it out!"

"S-Sir… the n-news report…" the servant pointed to the holo-monitor at the back of the vast, lavish room. The chancellor watched.

He recognised the Hall of the Ancients. It stood before the Chambers of the Galactic Senate, which was in Senate District.

It stood as a monument and showcase for the entire Galactic Republic. Countless Supreme Chancellors, Jedi Masters and heroes of the Republic had stood at the podium. Giant, gleaming statues of past greats hovered in the background, challenging the present day. In front of them stood a minor senator from a backwater planet. She was commenting on some insignificant sub-committee meeting.

 _Idiots, why are they taking comments in the Hall?_ He would publish an edict, banning use of the Hall for all but the most important events. In name, it did belong to the people of the Republic but then, the Republic itself belonged to him.

Then he noticed the senator.

 _Such rare beauty. Graceful, curly hair… the fullness of her lips… her green eyes, porcelain features. Though, her eyes look a little tired, she has endured much this…_ his eyes flicked down to the news report _… Senator Jennifer Hale._

 _That name..._

"For many centuries, the Senate of the Galactic Republic operated under the watchful eye of the Jedi Order."

Even her holo-casted voice sounded tired, though resolute.

"Under the eye of the Jedi Masters a certain amount of transparency was necessary. After the Mandalorian wars, the Jedi Civil wars, the Dark Wars and the Galactic war on the Jedi, our Jedi guardians are no more."

He watched her lips move but paid no attention to what she said. The telecast flicked to show others who were in the room with her from time to time. He saw expressions of growing fear and horror.

"Who asks what the military are doing? Why did the Senate authorize the bombardment of Dantooine and Onderon? Acts that cost thousands of lives. What control does the Senate even have over the Military? Does it have any? What is the Military doing at Demizoth IV? Why is it that trillions of credits are being channeled into an operation – or project - we know nothing about!?"

She would have to die.

 _Maybe… maybe if I could talk to her first. If I could find out what makes such a classic, and fatigued, beauty want to court death. A case study of a tragedy. Yes. No doubt there is more that would also be good to find out._

"Attendant!" he ordered. "Get me the commander of my Death Stalkers, get me Kamo Fett!"

* * *

It was a dirty, rowdy bar, situated near the base of a towering, Coruscanti spire. The seedy establishment wasn't in the slums yet but no doubt soon would be. The noise inside was loud. A brown eyed, slim and handsome man who sat near the bar didn't even attempt to listen to the news bulletin. It played on a small, cheap holo-generator, someone must have forgotten to turn it off. He was a master lip reader, even of the Nuitican anchor who narrated. Senator Hale by contrast, was easy. He shook his head with a wry smile as he watched, gulping down the rest of his drink.

 _She never knows when to keep her mouth shut,_ he thought to himself. His free hand fingered the lightsaber hidden under his cloak. Atton Rand was just about to stand and leave, knowing they would need him soon. Then he heard something he couldn't just walk past.

In the seat next to him, a pair of Rodians had watched the holo-cast as well. The big-eyed Rodians spoke with an awful whining, gurgling sound. Maybe a species somewhere had a more cringeworthy vocal pitch. He sure didn't know of one.

"Vesol say Senator Hale stupid. Vesol say she die for saying things like that."

Anonymity rather than poverty was the only reason Atton might frequent such a place, unlike his fellow patrons. Well before his exploits as part of The Resistance, he'd already achieved a certain amount of notoriety. He couldn't afford to go anywhere he would be recognisable. Or for that matter, do anything that might draw attention to himself.

"Yeah well someone needs to say something don't they?!" He aggressively butted in to the Rodian conversation. Alcohol sometimes made him do stupid things.

The group immediately stopped talking and began staring at him. Atton couldn't read Rodian expressions. If he could, he imagined they'd be displaying their 'who the hell is talking to us like that' look.

 _Great work, smart ass._ He knew how to disappear and did so. He slinked out of the bar and down the lift before ducking across the street and down a side alley.

 _I can't believe I did that! I bet that's exactly what Bastila would've said!_ Hearing the Rodians behind him, he walked briskly and pulled his dark coloured cloak around him, then ducked down another side alley and stood backward into some shadows. _Well actually she probably would've said; 'And what would a group of stupid Rodians know?'. Then they would have shot her just as she remembered she can't use the force anymore._

He heard the almost silent clinking of a blaster pistol against a holster. The incident it seemed, would only end one way.

 _Great._

"Visol say strange looking scrawny man stupid to contradict Visol." The high pitch cut through the otherwise anonymous, background city noises. "Visol think scrawny man not know who he talking to so rudely."

Atton stepped forward and held his hands up,

"Look, you're right - I totally messed up. Why don't we just forget this ever happened and go on our way?" _Yeah right, like that could happen._

Visol was one of 4 dirty Rodians pointing a weapon at him. With their physique, he really had no idea why they were calling him scrawny.

"Visol say why you stick up for Senator Hale scrawny man? She stupid to challenge Senate and now she going to die."

"Oh you know, just my stupid, scrawny brain getting the wrong idea."

"Scrawny man obviously not stupid, stupid man could not move the way scrawny man does. Why not scrawny man tell Visol truth? Visol give scrawny man one last chance: tell Visol why you concerned about stupid Senator Hale and who you are."

"Look, I'd love to tell you who I am but I really don't have a day to explain it all, bit of a long story. As for Senator Hale, let's just say I know how she looks without makeup, not pretty..."

His lightsaber hissed into life barely in time to deflect the first blaster shot as it reached him. The yellow beam was only just at its full length by the time a few more rapid and precise swings had saved him from another 6 shots.

 _Crap!_ That had been close, very close. His heart pounded in his throat.

"Jedi scum! Visol claim bounty on your head!"

An already mortally wounded Visol picked himself up and fired like a berserker. Atton deflected the shots, this time with fatal effect. An abrupt and jarring silence followed. He noticed that part of the wall near the freshly dead Rodians now sat in a pile of rubble, intermixed with small, crackling flames. The scene looked exactly like the result of a street gang blaster shoot-out.

He pulled his cloak around him and started walking away, quickly melting into the night.

 _Well I can see why they were so confident._ His blood still pumping fast, he reflected on how close he'd come. Sudden and unpremeditated attacks were top tactics against force channellers. _How the heck did a group of small time criminals know that? Dumb luck I guess._

His com-bracelet went off and a small, blue hologram of Mira appeared.

"Atton, is the Hawk ready?" The attractive, fiery haired bounty hunter hadn't changed much over the years. Apart from becoming even more of a pain in the ass.

"Not exactly."

"What?! Are you at a bar again? Atton you idiot!"

"Sheesh! I'd almost rather deal with Bastila."

"What do you mean?! It's not as if we didn't tell you the t#$%^ was going down! All you had to do was- never mind. Atton, this is real - these guys are going to hit us hard. They aren't going to muck around!"

"Alright! I'll get it ready just save me the damn lecture!" He pushed a button on the device and Mira disappeared. He stomped down a few more streets until he came to the one with the landing pad where he'd parked the Corellian built freighter. _Why do I have to put up with all these stupid… oh yeah, SHE got me into it._

At that thought his hand went into his cloak and came out with a small, beat up holo-logue. His finger triggered the switch. The stupid thing had been on him during too many blaster fights. It didn't quite work properly any more. Nonetheless, it did still play the important part. A holo scene popped up, showing the stars and one shooting across the sky. Then the perspective rotated and SHE appeared, with her smile and her warmth.

SHE said one word. Despite the holo-logue doing a crap job of replicating her, it sounded calm, serene and beautiful;

"Believe."

* * *

 _From the Author:_

Please, if you have enjoyed this even slightly, do leave a review with your assessment and thoughts... for that you will have my sincere gratitude. Kindest regards, DestinyOfAshes.

Next time: Bastila meets with the Supreme Chancellor, Mira and Atton take on Kamo Fett. There will be blood.

* * *

A note re ownership rights: clearly I do not own any rights to any of the Star Wars characters or properties, nor do I claim any. The is a fan-fiction meaning that I have created it on a not for profit basis purely because I enjoy the story. Therefore I can only request humbly that you please respect the work I have put into this - please do not copy it, ban it, distribute it, steal it, make money from it or otherwise do anything outside of the spirit in which it has been created: for your hopeful enjoyment. Yours sincerely, DestinyOfAshes.


End file.
